In 2003, my now ex-husband D fell & suffered a traumatic brain injury. After only a year and a half of being married, I became the sole provider for our family. He was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, a seizure disorder, rage disorders, anxiety, and others. At first, it was really difficult to get a handle on all of this. We saw specialist after specialist, collecting diagnosis after diagnosis. And I worked, both to provide for us & to coordinate his care.

After a while, his heath was relatively well managed and we decided to try to have a child. After months of trying unsuccessfully, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), one of the leading causes of infertility.

At this time, I was working in sales for a Veterans’ service organization. I was pretty happy there & had wonderful insurance. So, we were able to undergo 2 IUI (fertility) procedures and got pregnant on the second try! We welcomed M just before Christmas in 2009. We were overwhelmingly happy!

M spent 3 days a week at daycare & 2 with daddy at home after my maternity leave. It worked, for a while. My commute was an hour long (sometimes more). And, because D is unable to drive, I was left with all the grocery shopping, errand running, & as M got older, chauffeuring. When M was about 20 months old, D had a major seizure and spent several days in the ICU sedated because they couldn’t stop the seizure. This was a wake-up call & M began daycare full time.

Following that huge set back, seizure activity came more frequently and with greater severity. With every seizure, less & less of my husband returned. He began having auditory & visual hallucinations, he became more angry, more depressed, and his vocabulary decreased. He was hospitalized 2-4 times every year. At 2, M would tell teachers, friends, & whomever asked “my daddy is sick.”

I continued to take care of my family, to work in high pressure commission sales environments, to make sure they were okay. Lots of things happened during this time, but I’m not going to detail it except to say that D continued to deteriorate. Even on good days, I had to be prepared for the other shoe to drop. I worked multiple jobs. And I got by with help from my family, friends and parents of M’s friends who graciously offered play dates, sleepovers, etc.

My health began to wane. I was struggling each day, losing my voice, passing out from pain that I didn’t have time to get checked out. It is easy to say, “put in your own oxygen mask first,” but it is much harder to do. I felt like I had 2 children, D & M. In 2018 when I was at my lowest, emotionally & physically, my daughter asked me why I never smiled anymore. This was a huge wake-up, now she was really worried about me. Apparently, my closest friends were too. They staged an intervention of sorts. And in May of 2018, I decided that I could not go on. I was ashamed to think that I might break my vows, “in sickness or in health,” but was truly at my wit’s end.

With my sister as moral support, I bravely (?) told my good Catholic parents that I wanted to get a divorce. Their first words, “finally.” I was shocked, but they too had seen the changes and pain in me.

I spoke to D about it on a good day. He was upset & sad, but said he understood. Still feeling responsible for him, I went about trying to make plans for what his future would look like; where would he live, who would help take care of him, etc.

In December of 2018, my dad died after a series of medical problems over about six months. The night of his wake, D was not well, & while driving the 3 of us home, my mysterious pain returned & I knew I would pass out. So I pulled into a gas station parking lot & tried to wait it out. D was seizing, I was fighting my own body’s own Vasovagal Response, & M was terrified. Cut to EMT’s arriving, helping me to a bathroom & putting D in an ambulance. After a while, I was all right and took a sobbing M home and D went to the hospital. I picked him up after my dad’s funeral the next day.

January was really bad, we told M and D spent several weeks in a psychiatric unit in the hospital. That turned out to be a blessing because we were finally able to move forward with support! And he started being put on waiting lists for Assisted Living and group homes. But wait, not so fast, waiting lists are long and then COVID made them longer…

So he stayed in my house, because what am I going to do, kick my daughter’s dad out? What example would that set. But, he did qualify for a home health aid, so I was only responsible for him after work and on weekends.

Things have have been far from perfect but we’ve made it work. Except, he can’t do work around the house anymore. And tends to make a bigger mess than I can clean in my limited time home. And due to highway construction our neighborhood has been invade my mice that isn’t helped by our messiness.

But our lease is up this month, he’s FINALLY gotten a place in a county group home, and I have a place to move my daughter & I to! Unfortunately, I’m really struggling to come up with the deposit & money for movers. I sign the lease Wednesday 6/8 & move on 6/22.

And remember that unknown pain, well, I have to have surgery that will help that. That’s scheduled for June 27.

Can you help M & I get our fresh start?